Great poem.

Found through The Dawn Patrol:

What happens when statuary gets caught in a Nor'easter?

Savior Among the Drifts

You were mostly hidden out of sight
In the garden’s furthest, whitest reach,
Far from the thoughts of sleeping friends,
Away from your mother’s exalted place

In view of human eyes. The driven snow
Obscured the globe, the serpent, and her feet,
And yet she retained respect, and roses
In her arms, and consolation in her face.

But what of you, the hidden Man of Sorrows?
You remained implacable, arms outstretched,
A snowy bishop’s miter atop your head
Instead of thorns. And in that wide embrace

You took up the heavy driven burden
From the tops of your green and bushy flock.
Had I not been locked outside awaiting warmth,
I might have simply passed without a trace.